The Girl On The Horse

When my mother and father moved into their first home in Moorabbin,Victoria they had been one of the first in the neighborhood to move into the new estate. Like many other newly weds they were eager to move in to their new home.

The estate was filled in as it was an old market garden area reserved by the local vegetable growers that needed more land for vegetable growing.One of the daughters of the owner had a love of horses and she rode her horse around the land every day, he was like a baby to her.

Early one winter morning when she was out riding her horse he fell in a mud pit and was unable to get out, the girl with her long blond hair tried with all her might but could not move him, the horse was sinking further and further into the mud but rather than go and get help in case he drowned she stayed with him, her arms wrapped around his neck and sunk slowly into the mud leaving nothing but her hat on the surface.

Unknown to my mother and father they were eager to move. on the first night they had invited a friend to stay overnight, during that night he could hear galloping from the hallway, he woke my father and asked him if he too had heard the horse. The two men sat their that evening and my father too heard the galloping of the horse. After hearing the noise Allan left and said he could not stay another minute, he was terrified.

The noises continued when the morning frost and wintery days were similar to that fateful day, about 4 times a year mum would say. It wasn't until they went to a historian and found out what had happened that it really made sense.

Seven years later when I was born and bought home from hospital did the noises stop. As any new mother in the area mum was eager to show me off, she took me to all the ladies in the area including the historian who had told us the story of the girl on the horse. When mum showed me to her, her face went bright red and she looked like she had seen a ghost, she asked my mother what my name was, mum replied this is "Martene Wendy", the lady freaked out, not only did I look like the girl on the horse but her name was Wendy.

Later we also found out that Wendy died in July, the month I was born even though I was premature by two months, the historian died before I reached the age of One, perhaps seeing Wendy again was all too much to handle.

I don't recall anything in case I am really Wendy but often I get the feeling I have been here before, perhaps I have?

Submitted by Martene Peterson, Victoria, Australia